


The Aftermath

by superfluffycool



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfluffycool/pseuds/superfluffycool
Summary: This has been a trying two weeks in the Outlander fandom. This story posits that they were hard on Sam and Cait as well. They struggle to work through their feelings about the whole thing.





	1. Chapter 1

Caitriona woke up every morning feeling hollow and tense, now. She'd stopped looking at much on SM and only went on out of duty to the show and her charity. There was no fun in it anymore. 

Of course she didn't go looking for the gossip, but she insisted on knowing exactly what was being said in the corners of the internet. Her PR team informed her that it was bad. Many fans had moved from anger to apathy, the worst possible outcome. Sam also had his PR team keeping him abreast of the chatter, which was unusual because he normally did it himself. After the reaction they'd gotten from *that* picture on Twitter, he'd been too scared to investigate.

Today was a beautiful Saturday, and some of the cast a crew had planned a horse riding excursion along the beach. It soothed her to be in nature and around animals, and when she stroked her horse ("Alfie") along his warm snout, she felt her muscles relax and her chest expand.

The rest of her companions tried their best to pretend like everything was normal, but she could tell they felt sorry for her and Sam. She caught them whispering and they wouldn't look her in the eye. For the first time, she imagined the younger actors were grateful not to be the center of attention. But she didn't want to think of those things right now. She was on a horse with a warm salty breeze blowing through her hair. Best to push those clouds from her mind. 

How wonderful to be with horses! She thought them more empathetic than humans with their pure hearts and large, moist eyes. They didn't care about money or Hollywood, just gentle hands and treats. She felt her chest swell and suddenly big, fat tears were falling onto Alfie's glossy brown mane. 

No one saw. Her companions were scattered ahead of her (Sam was a few horses up). It was so silly to be sad in such a beautiful place, but she was. She and Sam had not had sex since his birthday, making it the longest they'd ever gone without while in each other's presence. The thought prompted several more tears to splat onto poor Alfie.

She and Sam hadn't spoken much about the fiasco, only exchanged updates. Anything more might set off an outburst of emotion. This did not stop them from touching. He'd held her tight after the angry phone call she'd gotten from the studio's PR department about the picture. They hadn't approved it to go out *then*, but they'd wanted it to go out *before*, she reminded them. Then she told them to fuck off before hanging up the phone and sobbing with shame and frustration.

Sam hadn't made any advances, either. He kissed her each morning and held her hand, but it hadn't gone further. That was how she could tell that he was hurting just as much as she was. A heaviness hung between them. Their predicament felt like a punishment, or a way of balancing the scales for the profound joy and solace they found in one another. The trade was having other people dictate their choices. How could could they make love when they felt so utterly powerless?

.....................

By the time they re-stabled the horses, Caitriona had stopped crying and settled on a course of action. She and Sam would speak, and let their emotions free. They'd seen each other at their worst. Tonight they would be at their worst, but nothing could resolve if they kept their feelings bottled in their brains and bodies.

She stroked Alfie along his large head. "Thank you" she whispered in his ear. His calm presence gave her courage. 

Sam was saying goodbye to his horse a few stalls down. She went over to him and a gently laid her hand on his bare forearm. He turned to her, and they spoke without saying a word. He gave her a gentle kiss on her temple.

"Do you want to skip dinner with them?" He gestured to their mates. They had planned to go some place by the beach, maybe sushi.

She sighed, "No, let's stay. I don't feel like cooking." She laughed a little, and he smiled before bringing her back tight against his front and wrapping his arms around her.

"Our problems can wait a few hours." , he said into her ear. She sighed in agreement. Their problems would wait. They weren't going anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

It was almost dark by the time they got back to their apartment. Dinner had been lovely with the ocean so close and the wine flowing. Caitriona felt some of her appetite return, and she enjoyed several types of rolls as well as a cup of miso soup. Sam kept his hand comfortably on her thigh the whole night, and she felt more of the rigidity leave her body.

Their spirits were somewhat lifted as they crossed the threshold.

"How do you feel?" He'd closed the door, and wasted no time getting to the point.

She sighed, heavily, "Trapped. Ashamed..."

"Ashamed? Of what?"

"I don't know." Tears began to fill her eyes.

He hugged her and gently rubbed her back, "Tell me. What is there to be ashamed of?"

She was crying now. Tears muffled by Sam's cotton shirt, "It's like I've asked for too much. I wanted a career and I wanted love. But then I wanted privacy, too. And I shouldn't have asked for it all. It was too much."

Sam swallowed hard, "Caitriona..." His voice caught and he began to rock them from side to side. "That's not what this is. You didn't ask for too much."

Something inside her cracked open and she tried to stifle it by planting her face into the warm crook of his shoulder. "How do you know?" She sobbed. "How do you know?"

"Because that's not the way things work." He said it without a hint of doubt. "If that were true, the bastards telling us what to do wouldn't have all the money, and the power, without any of this trouble. That's what they wanted and they got it."

"But terrible people always get what they want."

"Good people get what they want, too."

"Then why are you upset?" She felt his body tense, and he stopped rocking.

"Because I've made a fool of myself. And...and you don't deserve a fool." His voice came out soft and hoarse, as if he was choking something back. "I did this for us, but I did it to get ahead, too. And now I look like a stupid wanker that got blitzed by fame."

Caitriona pulled her head away so she could look him in the eye. He was looking off and she tried to guide his attention to her by putting a hand on his face. He clenched his jaw and finally met her gaze. Tears flowed down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I've been a fool, and I'm so, so sorry."

She began to cry again, not because she thought him a fool. His pain was her pain, and she weeped to know he felt solely responsible. "Sam, you did it for us. It was for us."

They held each other tight as they spilled their tears. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, but it was full dark now and they hadn't bothered to turn on more than the small lamp at the side table. Her tears had stopped, and she thought his had as well. He broke away from their embrace and began kissing her hungrily.

She was caught off guard, but acquiesced to the demands of his mouth. He led her to the bedroom, stumbling but assured as they continued their kisses. 

There was a rush to remove her clothes. He laid her on the bed, unbuttoning her blouse as quickly as possible, and dove to worship her breasts. It had only been two weeks, but his touch awoke something in her and another wave of emotion arose from her chest.

"What's wrong, mo chirdhe?" He could see she was crying. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no please don't." She sat up and kissed him while lifting his shirt. Her pace was slower, and Sam gave her the reigns as he inhaled the scent of her skin and ran his face down her neck and breasts. He laid her gently down again and massaged the smooth, warm flesh of her belly and waist. 

Her hips lifted in demand, and he undid the belt and fly of her pants. He felt wetness on his cheeks, and wondered why he was crying again. Was it grief? No. Was it gratitude? This, being with her, was the most sacred practice of his life. That she could love him, still, after every mistake he'd made humbled him to his core. He would do anything to please her. Anything for her.

He kissed her stomach and was making his way further down, but she stopped him and tugged him upward by his hair. She had his attention, and without saying a word he understood what she wanted.

He pulled her bottoms completely off, then did the same for himself as she watched silently from the bed. He laid on top of her, supporting himself with one elbow and teasing between her legs with two fingers. 

She whimpered beneath him and grabbed his hair to bring him to her mouth. He was trying to go slow, but the feel of her sparked a kindling inside him. They'd not had sex for over a week and the longing hadn't dissipated, it had simply lain dormant. 

He removed his fingers and spread her legs. She reached down his abdomen and guided him inside her as he steadied himself with his arms. They started in a frenzy, but then something shifted. More tears fell, and they paused to kiss them from each other's faces. Their lovemaking was no longer a mere physical urge, it was a balm for their most mortal wounds. They came to completion with slow, deep movements, their breathing a shared rhythm. 

At the last quakes of their release, they maintained their gaze. Their eyes spoke in a language beyond words. They remained joined atop the rumbled sheets as they kissed tenderly, not wanting to sever the profound connection they'd made.

The moment held and held. It was some time before Caitriona rose to use the bathroom. There was a quick shower for each, and then pre-bed preparations. The nights were fairly warm, and they opened the windows to enjoy the fresh air before climbing into bed and falling asleep, hand in hand. Their shared turmoil had been dealt with, for the time being, and for the first time in almost two weeks, they were finally able to rest.

....................

In the morning they made love again, this time, without tears. They had each other, through every mess and misstep. That would always be the most important thing.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I genuinely teared up while writing this, though I don't know if this is what they're going through. It's hard enough to make mistakes without thousands of people watching and judging. Fame is definitely a double-edged sword.


End file.
